Daddy's Little Monster
by srslyallison
Summary: Sometimes Duela Dent forgets who she is. Yeah, I suck at summaries. Ooh well. I'd love some reading and maybe some reviewing c:
1. Chapter 1

((alright. first off, thank you for reading. i wanna take a sec to explain how this chapter and maybe soon to follow are set up...this chapter is almost a prologue, but i still wouldn't wanna call it that. it does quite a bit of skipping. the whole story jumps ahead a few weeks or months. i just wanted to clarify that because i had some confused betas, haha c: and second off, i don't own any of this. not even duela dent. she's a small character--kinda--but she's definitely not mine. anyway...thanks again!))

She probably should have been quicker, in every sense of the word.

Since the Joker "created" Two Face, they've had the same target: Batman. It was only natural that one day they actually end up meeting each other in the process. Their reasons may have been completely different, but their drive and dedication led them to this same parking garage. As she saw the Joker's smile etched on his face, she couldn't help but remember the last time she saw it.

Two Face escaping from Arkham was ultimately her fault. She had been curious, as any young woman would be, about who her father was. She searched through her mother's things endlessly, trying to find a birth certificate, or a picture, or anything really. Finally after a week of digging she found an old diary that her mother kept at one point. Her mother's diary started a year before she gave birth to her daughter, and it detailed the relationship she had with a certain Harvey Dent.

Her mother wrote and wrote about the dates he took her on, the gifts he gave her, and finally the night he proposed. It was…sweet, for lack of a better word. Apparently he got down on one knee and everything. Her mother's entries began to get shorter and shorter every time, as she was no doubt busy with her wedding planning. She was excited, and it shone through the pages.

However, after the marriage, her entries began to get shorter and shorter, but not in a good way. She spoke about Harvey's obsession with a two-sided coin that decided every important decision he had to make. He was getting angrier with Gilda, though there was no mention of actual abuse from him. The only happy entry after her wedding was about her being pregnant, and soon her entries focused on the baby.

Her very last entry was about the birth of a baby girl.

_"I feel like I owe it to Harv, to let him choose her name, though I have to be honest, I'm starting to regret it. He's gone through this odd stage of really loving the number two, and ever since we found out our baby's gender, he was…disappointed. He really wanted twins. So, being the clever man he is, he named her Duela Abigail; Abigail after Abigail Adams, thanks to his fascination with politics, and Duela only because it had to do with the number two._

_"Since having Duela, I've started to become more wary of Harvey. He's getting angrier and angrier, and…well, that coin is still getting in his way. He won't hear anything about it, though. Not to mention his dreams of taking down the mob in Gotham. I think it's a little silly, and really dangerous. I'm not entire sure I want my child exposed to the danger that is the mob._

_"My child is now my greatest concern. If I find she isn't safe, with Harvey, his dreams, his obsessions…I may have to take action. Duela is my entire world, and as much as I love Harvey, she must come first._

_Gilda"_

Duela read it and re-read it carefully. She'd always been quick to have a temper, but this…this was ridiculous. She stared at the old diary, simply seething. Her pronounced cheeks were dangerously red and her large brown eyes went wide as she tossed the diary from across the room, but it didn't stop there. She shoved boxes around, yelping when her toe collided with the side of a desk. It didn't stop her anger, however.

Her mother had been telling her lies her whole life. "He was never a good man," she would say, if Duela ever asked. "He's a plumber now, working in New York and can barely afford his own rent. He couldn't afford to have my princess." That was all Duela would get, plus a kiss on her head. She believed her mother, because why would her mother lie to her? She was a good mom. She married men so maybe Duela could have a dad around, to provide for her and show her what a man should do. Provide. _That's all men are good for, Duela._

Everyone in Gotham knew that Harvey Dent had disappeared. They say he died, but only half of the residents believed it. After all, the city's officials had lied to them before. So Duela did some digging, the only place she knew where. She contacted Commissioner Gordon, and when she did finally get a meeting with him, she laid it on pretty thick.

"I just…want the truth, about my father. There are so many rumors about his death, about what kind of man he was, and…they say you were his friend." She sniffed, and pushed back some of her very light brown hair, her eyes meeting his. Duela had always been good at manipulation. It was easy for her…perhaps she learned it from her mother.

Gordon had been sympathetic. She felt his eyes look over her, taking her in. "You look remarkably like him," he'd finally said. When Duela saw old posters of his campaign posters, she'd thought the same thing. They were both attractive, with strong jaws and blonde hair. The only difference between her and her father were her eyes. They were big, and brown, just like her mother's.

Still, Gordon wasn't an idiot. He wasn't going to allow just any nutjob into the circle of trust, but he had a heart for kids, ever since he helped out a young Bruce Wayne. He gave her a paternity test, running the test himself and shredding the evidence when he was done. Gordon didn't want anyone finding out about her, or what happened to him. He didn't think Gotham needed to know…this young woman, perhaps.

The smile on her face when he told her the news was heart breaking. "He's not dead. Well…that is, his heart is still beating. But Duela, I must be honest with you…he's not who you'd think he is," Gordon said, gently. "He's not Harvey Dent anymore. He was scarred too badly by his loss of Rachel Dawes, the assistant District Attorney and love of his life."

"Where is he?" Duela asked quickly, her eyes going wide.

"Nowhere good. We've placed him in Arkham Asylum, for treatment." He paused, and she looked like she wanted to get up. "I'd recommend you don't visit him. You won't like what you see. That being said, you're seventeen…old enough to make your own decisions. I can't fault you for being curious. But that's not your father."

Duela didn't care. She didn't heed his warning, or even consider that her father might be insane. Not him—not the man her mother had nicknamed "Apollo". Surely he was just depressed, and not…well. She was wrong.

She visited him, and she found out how truly right Gordon was. The first person she met was Two Face, and he quickly denied her. "Sorry, kid…never had a child. You're looking for someone else, believe me. Now…how exactly did you find me?" he asked, constantly pushing against his leather straps out of habit. However, as Duela went into the story about Gordon, and the diary, Harvey Dent managed to push through and take control of the body he and he himself used to occupy.

Harvey stared at her, frowning. "Who are you?" he spat. "And how do you know I'm here? Gordon told everyone I died," he said, with a small smirk across half of his face.

Duela gaped at him. "I…I just told you. My name is Duela Abigail, err, Dent." She stopped as she watched realization sweep across his face. "You named me that, didn't you?" He just nodded. What she mistook for concern and worry for her well being was actually the wheels in his head turning. How could he use her? How could he use her to get out? She was a virtual unknown, after all…and he wasn't relying on the Joker to hurry up and blow the asylum half to hell. Two Face mumbled in his ear how she could be useful, their one outside link to the world.

Harvey humored her for weeks, even if it was Two Face whispering in his ear, telling him to right questions to ask and the right ones to answer. "_She's pathetic_," Two Face would mumble to him while he sat there, alone, in his cell. "_She'll do anything for her daddy, Harvey. Talk to her. Tell her you missed her, your whole life, even if she was just another horrible disappointment in your horrible life. Find out your strengths. And afterwards…we dump her._"

"I can't kill my own flesh and blood," he responded, out loud, his eyes glazed over as he spoke with Two Face. No one was in the room at this moment, as he had just bid good day to Duela. She walked off with a smile on her face, like maybe she had truly connected with her father. Maybe.

"_Why not? What has she done for you? Do you think maybe her life could have made yours a little easier, if she'd come to find you sooner? She wasn't there for YOU, Harvey_."

"She was a child," Harvey responded. "She doesn't deserve to be in this…I don't want her involved. She's probably not good at this anyway. She seems…she seems wholesome. Wholesome like her mother."

"_What would you be if it weren't for your father, Harvey?_"

Harvey frowned, looking confused. "What do you mean?"

"_Would you be this smart, this driven, if your father didn't beat it into you? Wouldn't you just be showing your daughter the ropes, the Dent family tradition of strong human beings? And besides, even if we did keep her around…at least we could teach her the ropes. A fair world does not have to die with us_."

Harvey frowned a little at that. "You're right," he said. Two Face and Harvey were in agreement, then. For another two weeks he wore Duela down, convincing her to use her gift of computers to get him out of here. Sometimes he would remind Duela of what kind of person she was. A whore, sleeping around for drugs…she was exactly the type of person Harvey Dent tried to bring down. He offered her a new life, with him, doing what was fair. What Rachel deserved, and he promised to throw in a little trip down vengeance way, as she had plenty of enemies herself. Duela seemed to like the idea of a brand new life, to escape her old, meaningless one. Two Face loved that determined look on her face, and he often reminded Harvey how much it looked like his own determined face.

She was much smarter than he'd originally thought…she created a false fire emergency after nearly a month of ruthless planning. She had the residents evacuated, and Harvey escaped from the chaos and into her car. Two Face took over during the plan, either because he didn't trust Harvey or because Harvey didn't trust Harvey.

Duela drove the three of them to an old, shabby apartment building where paying rent meant offering favors to the landlord. At this point, though, after nearly two months of hearing her father's manipulatively soothing voice in her ear and gentle promises, she didn't mind doing this for him. She listened to his philosophies and what his plans were, over and over, however vague he was being about them. She believed him, she believed in him.

Their first goal was Gordon. Two Face explained this was a test for her, a test she would have to past if she were to prove her merit. Harvey vaguely remembered having to prove his merit to his own father, so this went very well with him. Duela went to his home one night, having dinner with all of his family before sitting in the den. His son and daughter played with blocks in the floor while his wife went out for ice cream.

"I just wanted to speak with someone who knew about him, who he really was. My mom is still angry with him, and…either the people of Gotham loved him at one point and then hated him, or never liked her to begin with," Duela said to him on the old couch, her large eyes turned up to him. Then Two Face entered.

The plan went through without a hitch, though Duela had to be honest, it hurt seeing the coin come up as tails. It hurt more seeing the bullet flying through James Gordon's six-year-old son's neck, but Duela tried to put it out of her mind. Harvey quickly took over afterwards, rewarding Duela with his kindness. He knew Two Face to be a little ruthless, and didn't understand the finer points of rewarding someone.

He kissed her on the forehead, and offered her his pinstriped coat because she was cold. She took it, just as Two Face had suspected she would. "You did well," Harvey cooed, driving off and avoiding the police with ease. That seemed to satisfy her and make it all worth it.

Their next goal was Batman. This would prove even more difficult. Harvey and Duela managed to convince the Riddler after months of tracking him down and harsh interrogation to give up information regarding Falcone crime family's next meeting, where Batman would no doubt show up. The two crouched in a corner of the parking garage. It was cold. Duela's eyes darted around at all of the different men and only one woman. This was where they stood now. Duela was sure she'd done well for her father…she'd adopted his philosophy, and even joined in with his persona. The left half of her face had been blackened before they left with makeup.

"Well if it isn't old Dead Face and his little partner-in-crime, a newbie to the Freak world," said an odd voice behind them. At once the three turned around, and Duela's jaw dropped. Before her stood the notorious Joker, in his full getup. He looked even more intimidating in person. "I don't believe we've been formerly introduced, my name is Joe. Joe Kerr." He flashed his smile, the scars making it even more terrifying. His eyes went over her just as they had Harvey at one point, taking her in.

"I don't know exactly what you're doing here," said a calm and cool Two Face. He played with the coin in his hand, glaring at the Clown Prince. "But tonight is not your night for the Batman. Tonight belongs to us."

The Joker put his hands up in the air. "I think you know I mean no harm, Harvey."

"His name is Two Face," snapped Duela, and she stepped forward a little, glaring at the evil eyes. "Harvey is dead. Don't you read the papers?" She was almost like a puppy guarding her perfectly willing owner, the way she snarled at the Joker.

The Joker cackled. "Ooh, goodness! And she's feisty!" he exclaimed towards Two Face. He walked forward curiously to the girl, as if expecting her. "The similarities are endless between the two of you, you know," he continued, pacing forward slowly and menacingly. Unsurprisingly, Two Face didn't move, ignoring Harvey asking politely for him to move in front of Duela. This was his legacy he was protecting, after all.

"Last time I checked, I didn't see you having any reason to catch the Bat!" Duela snapped. As she yelled, the mobsters noticed them. Two Face resisted the urge to hit Duela.

The mobsters mumbled to themselves before deciding to reconvene elsewhere. It was no secret they hated the Freaks, but at the same time, they feared them. For wherever they seemed to be, Batman was not far behind. Quickly and without warning they piled into their cars, waving their guns around at the other three and daring them to follow. Their empty threats echoed through the parking garage, but Harvey knew not to follow after them. Sometimes their threats weren't empty.

Two Face growled and he grabbed Duela's shoulders. "You've ruined everything!" He yelled, and he shoved her, leaving. He had half a mind (literally) to give her up to chance, but instead he left her, knowing she had nowhere else to go. And besides, perhaps if he followed the mob, not all would be lost.

Harvey pled with Two Face not to leave her behind. This was his legacy…not to mention he knew what the Joker was capable of. He didn't think it was particularly fair that she only got one chance. The two argued on the way to the car, though Duela and the Joker both only got one part of the conversation before they walked off to their car and speeding off.

The Joker turned back to Duela, a little smile on his face as he did. "Do I…need a reason, to catch the Bat? Maybe…maybe I just wanna see him hanging from the big tree in the sky, maybe I just want to have some fun. But he's right…you ruined my fun tonight. You're just…" he began to laugh, pulling out a knife. "You're just a stick in the mud, aren't you?"

This was definitely when she needed to be more quick.

He ran to her, his eyes mad as he did, and he pushed her on the ground. He sat on top of her, looking down at her as she struggled and screamed. His natural smile and the one etched in his face combined flawlessly. "Like I said, the similarities are endless between you two," the Joker mumbled, and he took her knife to the blackened side of her face, flicking open her skin. "Except one little thing…" he cut her once more, seeing the blood crawl down her cheek.

He cut the left side of her face nearly ten times, smirking at what he saw. "Now, see, now…now you look like him. Daddy's little monster, aren't you?" he asked, and pinched her cut cheek, causing her to whimper. He rose up from her and started off, leaving her to bleed. He knew she wouldn't die of anything but shock, maybe. It all depended on how strong she was.

Duela sat there for a while, deciding it would be best to wait for someone to find her. The apartment was many miles away from the parking garage, so walking was out of the question. She lay down on the cold ground, curling up and waiting to be taken into custody. She didn't think she could bear seeing the look on Gordon's face.

----

"Shut up, shut up…" Harvey whispered to Two Face, who was screaming in his ear endlessly. He stood over Duela about an hour later, seeing the cuts on her face. "I know, she's not strong. Not…not yet, alright?" he tried to reason. "She'll learn. She gets two chances—that sounds fair, doesn't it?" he continued, and Two Face seemed to concede, however hesitantly. He nudged her awake before he picked her up. Duela woke up, but she looked so incredibly exhausted as she lay there in his awkward arms.

The whole way back to their apartment, Harvey and Two Face argued. "She has potential," Harvey said to his other side, maybe a little desperately. "Don't you remember how she got me out? With the right experience…"

"_Do YOU remember that you were supposed to dump her afterwards_?"

"She ended up helping with Gordon, and she did a surprisingly good job with the boy. She didn't even cry. Even you have to admit how big of a feat that is."

Two Face didn't seem to respond after that. Harvey only assumed he'd won. For once.

He dragged her up the stairs to their apartment. His eyes went along the apartment numbers before he finally found B2, and he walked her in. He shoved her onto the couch, and left her there, now very much awake. Her shaking pale hand moved up to touch her cheek, and she winced a little, seeing a mixture of the makeup and her blood on her hand. She wiped it off onto her jeans, her eyes wide as she waited for something to happen.

Harvey pulled a footrest up to sit in front of her. He began to roughly remove the makeup off of her face, getting some of the blood as well. "You get one more chance," he growled, using the gauze to get off as much makeup as you could. He looked at her shivering lip and her somewhat teary eyes. "If you can't handle the Joker…"

"I can!" Duela yelled, staring at his eyes. There was a big difference between Harvey's eyes and Two Face's, even if they were technically the same eyes. His looked just a little bigger, like he was thinking things through. Two Face's eyes were dead, with nothing but vengeance in them.

"I can handle the Joker. I didn't have my gun with me, I…"

Harvey took her face in his hand, roughly, to look her in the eye. "Do not make excuses. Do you understand me?" he asked, and she nodded. As he continued to clean he only hoped she heeded his warning…Two Face did not appreciate excuses. He didn't like failure. She was lucky he was being so kind, when she'd ruined a plan that had took them months to make. Months of difficult planning, ruined.

Finally her face was clear of the black makeup, and he poured some alcohol onto a piece of gauze. "This won't feel good," Harvey growled, and he began to clean the cuts. When she winced and whimpered, he frowned. "What is our goal?" he asked.

Duela stumbled over her words. "To…to make sure what's fair is done, maybe not from us, but from…someone, anyway," she said, her hands shaking, and she nodded. "That's our goal."

"Is it our decision who gets killed?" he pressed, cleaning one of the bigger ones as he asked.

"No," Duela answered once more. "It's not our decision. It's left up to chance. Only chance." She wrapped her arms around her body. She felt sick, but not just from the alcohol. She was just hearing herself say these things. One half of her knew it was wrong, but the second half thought it was just perfect. It made complete sense, but it was still wrong.

She looked up to him after a moment, wetting her lips. "I'll try harder," she said shakily. "I promise…I'll try harder next time. I don't need another chance." He was all she had, now. She'd never lived up to her mother's expectations…Duela had always been too angry, and when her mother said her name, she spat it out like it was a curse word. Harvey and Two Face were all she had in life. She wasn't messing this up, not if she could help it.

Harvey listened, looking into her eyes. "Good," he said simply. As he eyed her face, which was now cleaned but still in bad shape, he couldn't help but smirk a little. In a sick way he was proud of these cuts. Now she did look like him…now she was his. To hell with Gilda, and all of the horrible things she'd said to Duela about him. She was now his to make into his own, to mold her into his little protégé of chance. To hell with Gilda. She didn't let Duela choose whether or not she wanted her father in her life…a week after she was born, she left. To hell with Gilda. Now Duela got to choose, and she chose to be loyal to her father and what her father stood for. To hell with Gilda.

"_To hell with Gilda_."

Harvey smiled on half of his face, standing up as he continued to eye her. "Tomorrow, the rent is due," he said to her, and went off to the only bedroom, leaving her to sleep on the couch.

Duela blinked. Even if he wasn't kind to her all the time, she knew—she hoped—he still expected to teach her. And although she didn't know what he would no doubt make her into, she still knew that it would be better than her current life. And besides, now with her face, she had every right to become a Freak. She had every right to go around the world, if she wanted, delivering what came to people who were unfair. That's what was right, it was fair.

She could almost feel the cold metal of the coin in her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

((again, i own absolutely none of this c: ))

She saw his body dangling from the fire escape and she knew this was how it had to be.

Duela had not been with her father for very long. It'd been maybe five or six months, killing Gordon's son and hunting down the Batman. Their hunt was fruitless, until the night before.

Maybe God was smiling down at them, but she doubted it. They just happened to be in the warehouse, having kidnapped a member of the Falcone crime family. Duela's scars had finally begun to heal; she hated and loved the raised white lines across half of her face. They gave her an identity, and maybe something to aspire to. She wasn't insane…not yet.

All at once Batman crashed through the ceiling. It was like he went to school for this. Duela backed up a little into some crates, knowing that even if Batman had seen her, maybe he would assume she took this time to escape. After all, who would willingly hang around and help someone like Two Face? She peered from behind the crates as Batman beat who was now Harvey down, shoving him against the wall.

But as Batman stared at Harvey, Two Face took over again. And he laughed. "Kill me," he said simply, staring the Bat in his eyes. "Go ahead and kill me, if you can. Go ahead. I dare you," he said shakily and gruffly, but naturally, Batman refused.

"Why?" he said simply, holding him there while the mob guy crawled off.

"Why…all of this? Because it's fair. Rachel only got a fifty-fifty chance, Gordon's son only got a fifty-fifty chance…and now it's your turn. And since obviously the Batman doesn't have anyone to care for, it has to be you. It has to. It's fair," Two Face said shakily, and even continued to mumble to himself. The look on his face scared Duela, though she wasn't entirely unused to it. After all, she'd been with this man for nearly six months.

"Then flip," Batman breathed. He let Two Face go, knowing very well no matter the outcome, he was getting out of here alive and Two Face was going back to Arkham. But maybe, just maybe, if the outcome was in his favor…maybe Two Face would finally give it up.

Two Face stared up at Batman, reaching for his coin, but his evil eyes never left the Bat. He flipped with practiced ease; the ping of the coin rung in Duela's ears, and it almost called her out of hiding. She walked forward slowly, as quietly as she possibly could, and even went as far as to pull out her gun. She stood behind Batman, who was staring down at the coin in Two Face's hand.

He slapped the coin on his wrist. When he revealed it his knees buckled; it was heads. His heart raced with anger and he seemed to go to flip again, before Harvey took over his body. "You flipped!" he screamed, giving Duela a very quick opportunity to cock her gun. "You flipped, that's all there is, now let it go…please!"

But Two Face wasn't stupid. He knew that as long there was no vindication for Rachel, there was no Two Face. The two seemed to fight, Harvey's body squirming as his heart beat wildly. Duela took this opportunity. She put the gun up against Batman's neck, glaring. "You leave. You leave now. His business is done…let him go, now, let him crawl away and try to figure out his life," she whispered, pressing the barrel against what little skip was available.

Batman stood stiffened, not recognizing her voice. Who was she? His fists clenched as he looked down at Harvey Dent and Two Face battle of the body, and he gulped. This mysterious female was right, though…he knew Harvey enough to know that he would turn himself in. He didn't want to smear Harvey's name…he was right. He had to be right, he had to be right in all of the decisions he made, and this was the right decision. Right?

Fear gas clouded his judgment, though he didn't really know it. He nodded, sure this was the right decision. Batman left Duela to pick up this struggling man as best as she could and drive him back to the apartment. She led him up the stairs, just as roughly as he did about four months ago. She moved her cheek to feel the scars and remind herself why she was doing all of this. She put him in the apartment and then into his bed.

She stood over him with a warm washcloth. "You know," she mumbled, sitting at the foot of his bed. He looked dead on the outside, save for his eyes. His eyes were alive with conversation and thought, as Harvey's always were. "You know, Two Face doesn't always have to win. You can still…you can coexist peacefully." She watched him wince with anger. That was Two Face.

She got up as fast as she could, but it was too late. His hands wrapped around her neck, roughly. She gasped for air as his thumb pressed against her windpipe. It ended as quickly as it began, however. Harvey was back. Was he winning? Duela looked up at his eyes, coughing and gagging. His eyes were alive, but…deadening.

"No, we can't," Harvey gasped, and he sat down on the bed again. "We can't coexist peacefully. Not anymore. Now it's either all him, or all me…" he mumbled, ignoring the terrified look in her eye.

"That can't be true, though…"

"Go to bed, Duela," Harvey cooed. He got up and kissed her forehead as if he didn't just almost kill her. "Go to bed…we'll both feel better in the morning. I promise," he mumbled, and he ushered her to bed, much to the disgust of Two Face.

----

Duela lit a cigarette as she looked down at the bloated face of Harvey Dent. It definitely had to happen. Two Face was an immovable object and Harvey was an unstoppable force. They really couldn't coexist. She blew smoke out of her plump lips, missing how good nicotine made her. She glanced down, seeing only his puffy purple cheeks and what was left of his golden hair. She ruffled it slightly and quickly finished the cigarette.

Still, Duela didn't want people to think it was Two Face and Harvey Dent that killed Two Face and Harvey Dent. That was too weak, even for her. So she went inside and painted his face. She made his face white, blackened his eyes. She reached into her makeup bag to pull out some lipstick, which she unceremoniously put on his lips, and beyond that. After all, not even Two Face could be expected to take on the Joker and live.

Duela soon packed her things in a backpack, and headed out the door. Before she left, though, she turned around and dug quickly through his clothes and things, finally finding the coin. On one side was nothing but a face, and on the other, of course burns. Just like him. She grinned wildly and pocketed the coin…she would do him proud. Maybe Two Face didn't like her hanging around, but they both at least agreed on the fact that she would do well to carry on his name.

Still, working alone right now would be a horrible idea. Duela knew she wasn't good enough, not yet. So that night, after finding one of her father's old billboards on top of the Second National Bank of Gotham, she went to work. She wanted to send a message to the Joker. She shook up black spray paint and blackened half of Harvey Dent's face, the correct half, of course. She grinned up at her handiwork before continuing.

She climbed up and using red spray paint, wrote a simple message:

"Call Me".

Duela smirked, knowing he would find it, and know what it meant. She spread the word around the underground where she was staying…it was a stupid idea, maybe, but it would hopefully work. A few nights later she found herself with a familiar face. Talia al Ghul and her became fast friends, even if she was older than Duela. They had one very special thing in common, something that you didn't just find anywhere else. They walked through the park having come back from dinner.

"So, he just…killed Two Face?" Talia asked, not buying it one bit.

"I suppose, I dunno, he just…" Duela stopped when her phone rang. Talia answered it and quickly hung up, looking down at Duela. "It's him, isn't it?"

"I have to go do something. Someone."

"I dunno when you're going to stand up to him, but…you can't let him tell you what to do all the time. I stood up to Two Face, and sometimes it hurt, but…it was usually worth it." She paused as Talia rolled her eyes. "I mean, why do you take this bullshit?"

"Why did you? And why are you looking for more?" Talia asked, and she left, in a huff.

Duela sighed, hating that she had just asked a very good question. Her eyes looked up, scanning the trees for any familiar vines. Apparently Ivy wasn't around…so what was she supposed to do, now? She looked down and started forward, no longer strolling. She happened to know what went bump in the night, and she didn't feel like getting involved. Not tonight.

"Ring, ring," said a soft voice.

Duela looked up and saw the Joker standing in front of her. She immediately saw his eyes looking over her face, and she frowned, hating that he was admiring what he'd done. Harvey used to do the same. "Leave a message," she mumbled, stuffing her hands in her pockets and trying to move on.

The Joker stood in her way, being annoying for now. "But you were so eager to get a hold of me. I don't just bend over backwards for anyone's requests…so what is it, Dead Face Mini?"

"I just—"

"Ooh! And by the way, blaming me for Harvey Dent's inevitable plunge into hell…that just wasn't very polite. See, I like my crimes to mean something. Anything." He eyed her, walking closer. "But that didn't mean anything. Though I have to admit, it did throw the police off of my trail…"

"That was kinda my goal," Duela mumbled, awkwardly.

"No, it wasn't, because…you two were very proud people. Or should I say, you three were very proud people. You didn't want people to know Harvey offed himself," the Joker said, eyeing her. He liked to watch people as he messed with them…like a sick science experiment.

"It wasn't Harvey. It really can't have been. It had to have been Two Face," Duela mumbled, taking her hands from her pockets.

"Semantics…" Joker mumbled, and didn't give Duela any time to retaliate. "So, what is it? I mean, you destroyed public property to contact me." He waited, now, with all the patience in the world.

She frowned. "I'm…" she began, and then she looked him straight in the eye. "Honestly? I wanna work with you. I'm not done learning yet, and…I like the way you work. I would have liked it a lot more if you didn't work against me and Two Face a lot, but…I wanna learn," Duela said.

The Joker's smile disappeared as much as it could as he inspected her. And then he laughed, filling the otherwise quiet park with the sound of his cackles. "You think…you can…" he said, gasping for breath from laughing so hard. Duela watched with a frown on her face, looking rather offended by all of this laughter. "You think, you can work with me, okay…" he said, finally calming down. "You're insane."

"I thought that's what you liked--!"

"Not in the good way, Duela dear. You're insane, and that's it. You would have to be to want to be like one of us. You're…reckless. And I don't have time for recklessness." He flicked her nose pointedly. "Okay? Alright. I'll see you on the playing field." He turned around to leave.

"And what about chaos?" she asked, and he stopped but didn't turn around. "You're an agent of chaos, we all know that, but…what happens when you're gone? Unable to fulfill your duties as an agent of chaos? What then?" she asked, and she walked closer. "You're going to need someone to fall back on. Someone to carry on your name, your legacy…and I think I'm perfect."

The Joker turned around, eyeing her for what felt like days. He took her in, everything about her. Finally he looked at her eyes. "And why do you think you should be the one to follow in my footsteps?"

Duela took out the coin. "Because what is chaos, if not…" she flipped the coin and caught it, slapping it on her wrist. "…fair?" she smirked over to him, her own eyes going wide with excitement. "Heads, you take me in. Tails, you leave now and I move on," she mumbled, looking up from her covered hand to look at him.

The wheels were turning. He knew he didn't work on rules, but like she said, chaos was a bit like a flip of a coin. He nodded, and she pulled her hand off of her palm. A shiny, clean head shone up at them, and they both smiled at one another. "Heads," they both said at the same time.

The Joker wormed an arm around her, making her just a bit nervous. "Let me show you to my office…" he mumbled, and while Duela was more than excited, she knew the night air only got that much colder.

----

The Joker didn't intend to keep her on for long. He sat in a chair, watching her sleep on the couch. He himself never did sleep, and when he did, it certainly wasn't with someone else in his home. His home…they'd come in, purging the house of any unwanted guests, and stacked them neatly in the basement. It was a perk that Duela didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that they were grotesquely murdered, but after a half a year of looking at Two Face, not much could really bother anyone.

And then his mind wandered to their first lesson. What could he teach her about delivering chaos? Two Face was awful at what he did, so he would definitely need to fine-tune her a bit. He watched her turn onto her other side and mumble something to herself, temporarily breaking his focus. He could use some money…and if she got caught at the bank, then perhaps he would be rid of her and he could find someone more worthy. Though to be honestly, she was the most worthy candidate he'd seen to date. He eyed her curiously, his legs crossed.

"Duela," he cooed, waking her up and she winced looking up. She half-expected to see Two Face, but instead, she was greeted with the smile of the Joker. "Wake up, my dear. We have things to do, people to kill…"

"It's three in the morning," she said, sleepily turning over to look up at him. His eyes were wide, dangerous and waiting. Duela didn't see anything like what she saw in Harvey Dent or Two Face, none of that. She saw something much, much worse. "There will still be people awake in a few hours, and ready to be killed…"

"Yes, but I'd like to make a withdrawal as soon as I possibly can," he said, and he rose, pulling the sheets from her and revealing a huddled Duela in shorts and a t-shirt. She groaned and got out of bed. "And we need to prep you, make sure you're ready, so you don't…disappoint." He tugged her out of bed, and led her to the kitchen where he poured her some coffee and gave her…well, some directions.

---

Duela waited outside the bank in the van with the Joker and two other goons of less importance. She sat there, mumbling the plan to herself obsessively from underneath her clown mask. She was to walk in, and head on down with one of the goons to the safe in the back. This was certainly not a mob bank, of course, so this would be easier than before. The Joker had warned her, however, that there were two security guards beyond the main lobby of the bank who would no doubt be at the ready.

What he failed to mention was the third who kept guard of that particular safe. The third guard would be more ready than the first or second, and he was banking on her strolling in like the child she was. He watched as she rehearsed to herself, annoying the other two goons in there. He knew she would be reckless, because Two Face was reckless, and the apple never rotted too far from the tree.

Finally, it was time to go. She watched the Joker and the other goon race off to distract most everyone, while she and the other one ducked under the line of fire to go to the back. Just as he had predicted, the first two security guards waited, glaring at the two of them. Their guns were drawn but Duela was quicker, and she shot the first one easily, watching him fall. The other guy took care of the second security guard, and they walked off.

Duela moved forward, her gun down. The third security guard was in fact more ready, however. He shot the goon next to her and did the same to Duela. She jumped back but lost her gun, and it slid to out of her reach. She stood there, and as he fumbled for a pair of handcuffs, she reached under her shirt and took out a second gun, shooting him without thinking. Duela stood there stunned as she watched him gasp for breath past all of the blood that was no doubt filling his lungs.

She gulped, stumbling back a little at his gags and yells and she went to the safe. Duela remembered what she had learned from Harvey, and began to try and open the safe. She moved quickly with her shaking hands, shoving the money into the duffle bags she had with her and she looked up. Just as the Joker had said, there was a small window up a little ladder, which she would throw the money into and climb in herself.

Her eyes narrowed but she did so, piling them onto the roof and looking around. There was the third goon, waiting by the fire escape to toss the duffle bags into a second van. As Duela heard sirens she took her second gun and killed him, trying to ignore the sound of his body falling onto the roof. She helped the Joker load them into the back of the second van.

Duela's heart raced as finally they drove off. She took off the mask and sat angrily in the seat next to him, glaring. "I'm not a moron, you didn't tell me about the third guard! If you wanted me dead, you should at least kill me yourself! Give me some credit!" she yelled, throwing the mask to the other side of the van. "So stop stringing me along…if you want me, fine, but if not…" She winced as she felt the little plastic Hawaiian dashboard girl hit her forehead.

"You passed," he said with a small frown, as if telling her to shut up. "You always carry two guns?"

"It's something Two Face taught me," Duela mumbled, sticking the plastic girl on the dashboard again. "He said it was safer, and you were always guaranteed to come out on top with two."

"I want you to start carrying one. Because see…he took the safe road, and that is so utterly boring," he grumbled, and turned on the air conditioner, which barely blew into his face. "You'll be carrying one from now on. So choose your favorite."

Duela nodded, looking down to her lap as she considered that. She hated when the Joker said things like that about her father and Two Face…like he was a weaker criminal, just because he failed, just because he killed himself. She shifted a little uncomfortably, looking back up to him. She also found she expected some kind of kindness from him, because she had done well. Duela looked at him, smiling a little, her scars stretching as she did.

He frowned. "You'll be getting your next assignment tomorrow. Count the money…" he saw her face. "Please?"

She frowned, and nodded, going to the back to begrudgingly begin counting the money. Up front the Joker watched her, gauging what kind of person she was from the way she moved, breathed, saw…everything. He smirked to himself. "And this one will be fun. You know Bruce Wayne?" he cooed.

Duela looked up, nodding quickly. "Of course. He's in all the tabloids. He's…very attractive."

"Mmm, well apart from being a heartthrob, he also happens to be the biggest weapons manufacturer in this part of the country," he mumbled, and he smirked into the rear view mirror. And in spite of the danger this mission would no doubt hold, Duela smirked back, almost knowingly.


	3. Chapter 3

((as usual, i own none of this c: not even lonnie.))

Her assignment was relatively simple. She stood awkwardly in the parking garage, looking around nervously. Gotham City was usually not the best place to stand around in a dark parking garage. The slutty clothes didn't help her paranoia. Her skirt was not shorter than she was usual, but without the watchful eye of someone, she was definitely nervous. But she had to prove that she was worth it, even to this day.

They'd pinpointed a certain male from the developers' office, and stalked him for nearly three months. He was exactly what the Joker liked in a lacky; he was sallow and pale, with greasy black hair that usually hung in his dark eyes. Lost. She looked around and waited around where she knew his car was, though she was obviously waiting very impatiently. She was waiting for him to come by so she could play a crucial role in any plan—the damsel in distress.

As she saw his lanky body walking to his car, she began to look around frantically, chewing on her lip and gulping. Her eyes went wide and scared, and she only hoped he wasn't the dangerous guy he seemed. As he got closer she felt his eyes on him, and the plan was put into motion. She let out a very shaky sigh, loud enough for him to hear.

He approached with cautious, frowning a little. "Are you…err, okay?" he asked.

She looked up from her purse, and she sighed. "You haven't seen keys lying around somewhere, have you? I lost them, and I don't know where they are…ooh, my dad's going to kill me," Duela mumbled, still looking down. She wasn't ready to show him her scarred face just yet, it would seem.

"I'm sorry, I haven't," he mumbled awkwardly, and he frowned. "Maybe they're at the lost and found…?"

Duela looked up, and smiled. "That's an excellent idea, uhh…sorry, I, err, didn't catch your name," she said, and wet her lips.

"Lonnie, my name's Lonnie…yeah, there's a lost and found down that way, at the security guard's station," Lonnie said with a small nod, towards a rather dark and foreboding area of the parking garage. He sighed and looked back down to her. "I can walk you, if you want," he offered, dutifully.

Duela smiled. This poor sap never had a chance, did he? "I would appreciate that so much," she said, and she saw his eyes go over the left side of her face. Of course they did…why would she expect any different from these sorts of people? "I had a bad run-in with the notorious Joker," she explained, hoping it would add a little to her sap story.

It seemed to. His expression softened, and he began towards the security guard's station. "I'm sorry to hear that. He's getting more and more dangerous every day…I just hope Batman does something soon. I mean, he's here for a reason, isn't he? So why isn't he helping out with the Joker?"

"Maybe the Joker is too good," she said softly, and she shrugged. They walked a few more feet before Duela spoke up. "So do you work here, at Wayne Enterprises?" she asked, turning her eyes up to see him as she continued to find the keys in her purse.

"I do, yeah. I'm in Weapons' Development," he said proudly, not having a clue about who he was talking to. "Lots of top secret stuff…can't really go into a lot, but we're making some amazing stuff," Lonnie said, and he seemed to have a bit more pep in his step. "What about you, what do you do…ahhh, sorry, I didn't catch your name either."

"My name is Duela. I know, weird name, but dad named me it and then he ran off," she said with a small shrug. "I work…for a small business, and I work directly under the owner. We deal a lot with…public relations, and…well, it's a little complicated. I don't really have an official job title," she said with a little shrug.

"Like a management company?"

"Something like that," she said, and she looked down at her feet. "So, Lonnie…tell me about yourself. You obviously love your job." She grinned up at him. "I mean, most people don't leave their job at eleven o'clock at night if they hate it," Duela said with a knowing wink.

"I like to stay after and…tinker, a little bit. Play with the toys." He grinned, and finally they reached the security station.

Duela dug through the lost and found box, knowing she wouldn't find any keys…none of hers, anyway. She came back up from the box, gave one more dig in her purse, until finally she pulled out a ring of keys. "I am a moron," she said with a little smile, looking up at him. He seemed vaguely interested in her, but that wasn't good enough. He had to be really interested in her.

Casually she moved her hand and went to hold his, putting on a pouty little smile, and fluttering her eyelashes. "I really appreciate you taking time out of your life to help me out. I haven't seen a perfect stranger like you in Gotham since…well, never," she grinned. "You must be some kind of special. I better go to try and find my car."

As she moved away, she counted down the seconds. Three. Two. One. "Ooh, wait!" Called Lonnie, and he ran over to her. He started hesitantly before finally letting it go. "I know you probably get this all the time, and how could you not, but…would you like to get something to drink? Not…tonight, obviously, but maybe sometime soon?" he asked, and he smiled awkwardly down at her. She wrote his number down on her hand and kissed him goodbye.

----

Duela walked into their home, smelling a nice dinner being cooked up. The Joker was a chef…who knew. "Flawless!" she called from the living room, where she kicked off her shoes and yawned. She walked to the kitchen and plopped on the counter he was not using, trying to peer into the large pot he was cooking in.

"Excellent…and when is the occasion?" he asked, adding some pepper to his concoction. It smelled like some sort of spicy stew, but Duela's nose didn't really smell specific food, just good food.

"It's in three days, this Friday. I don't know where yet." She shrugged, and bit her lip. "What's that?"

"Dinner," he said quickly, stirring it gingerly. "I'm assuming you have appropriate attire for whatever sort of date you're going on? You're representing me," he said with an absent sigh, stirring a little more before he clicked off the stove. "So please, don't mess this up."

"Knowing him, he's going to drag me to a video game convention of some kind. He's not exactly my ideal guy…but he is nice, I'll give him that," Duela mumbled, as if thinking this over. As she slipped into another world revolving around her and Lonnie, the Joker came forward with a spoon full of his mystery stew. He shoved the spoonful into her mouth and she drank it, happily. She gave the thumbs-up, but after a moment, she turned pale.

She saw the Joker's face become distorted, and little tiny spiders crawling out of his nose, mouth, and eyes. She let out a little scream and fell off the counter, crawling into a corner to escape the Joker. He walked closer, though, peering down at her very curiously. The spiders turned into huge cockroaches, which began to crawl aimlessly around her. He snickered, grabbed her arm, and dragged her to the couch in the living room.

As Duela began to hyperventilate, watching the walls morph and faces appearing in them, she felt a stabbing in her arm. When she looked down she thought she saw a large butter knife, but as she blinked a few times, what was a butter knife was now a rather large syringe. She put her hand on her chest, feeling her heart race as she glared at him.

"Hm…he was right, that was a strong dose. But it'll be great for the soup kitchen tomorrow. Thank you for being my little test rodent," the Joker said as he grinned, and he ruffled her hair. He got up, sing-songy, and began to go into the kitchen to put the tainted stew into a large container, which would no doubt make it's way into the delivery route for the soup kitchen.

When she finally caught her breath, she rose and walked in to hear him humming Christmas jingles. "Your welcome," she finally said with a little smile. He was mildly surprised that she wasn't livid…but he wasn't complaining.

Maybe she would work out for him after all.

----

Months of planning had finally come to an end as Duela sat in Lonnie's home. It'd been nearly a year since she began the Freak business, now, and she knew she was in very deep. Not too deep…just deep enough. She'd changed since she first found poor Harvey Dent in his sad little Arkham cell, talking to himself. She'd grown darker, and had lost a part of herself. Maybe she was insane…the Joker didn't think so, and so neither did she.

She smiled as she looked up to him, kissing him a little roughly at first. He pulled back to look at her, brushing back some of her hair. "You look like something's on your mind…" Lonnie noticed, frowning a little. She had a wicked little grin on her lips.

He said this was the right time. Execution, Duela, is key. She heard his voice ringing through her head, and it sounded beautiful, every word of it. She smiled a little as she pecked his lips once more, secretly pretending they were red, and that his smile extended beyond those red lips. She blinked and sighed a little, holding his hand between her two cold hands.

"Remember those…those plans we talked about? Remember how you wanted to do something big, something…that would shake Gotham up?" she asked softly, her voice sultry. She noticed that the prospect of doing something big seemed to excite him even more as her arms hung on his shoulders, her hooded eyes gazing at his bright green ones. "'Member, babe?"

"I remember, of course…I've had these plans for a long time now," he continued, and he gazed into those eyes of hers that had deadened since they first met. "What's on your mind, hm?" he asked, liking the dead in her eyes more than he should. Lonnie thought he was the reason behind those dead eyes, and that perhaps she was blindly following him into what they were going to do.

"I wanna show you something. Someone. Someone who can help you, help us achieve what we want," she mumbled, her eyes going wide as she rose up, her skirt bouncing with her. "I think you'll like it. Just don't get scared, okay?" she asked, and as he rose, she put a hand on his cheek, looking into him. "You have to promise you won't freak out and abandon ship, because what…who, I'm gonna show you…" she grinned devilishly again, but didn't finish her sentence.

Lonnie had to admit. As she drove him to a rather nice area outside of Gotham, where the houses had acres of land around them, he was scared. He sat nervously in the passenger's seat while Duela hummed to an unknown song. Finally they arrived at an old shack outside of the big city. She got out of the car and shut it off before running to the other side of the car, holding his hand. He gulped, looking up to the shack and squeezing her hand. Whatever it was, she wasn't scared. So why should he be?

"Honey! I'm home!" Duela joked as she walked in, and out walked the Joker himself, his arms wide. At first Lonnie stood stunned, and almost ran out, but Duela did her job and closed the door behind him, locking it securely so they wouldn't be interrupted. "Meet the Joker. You've heard of him, haven't you?"

"But…Duela, this…he's…your face!" Lonnie stumbled, as the Joker walked up, inspecting him.

"Mmm, yes, this is my masterpiece," he growled, touching the side of her face. She looked as if she might have melted, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care. "It's nice to finally meet you, Lonnie. Come in! Duela…be a dear, and fetch some refreshments," he said with a little smirk before grabbing Lonnie by the arm and dragging him into the shabby living room.

He sat in his purple suit, eyeing the skinny kid sitting across from him. "Duela tells me you have some…unique, ideas. You'll be needing some funding for those ideas, won't you?"

"Well, yeah, but, I mean…I'm not going to do anything…"

"Anything…what? Illegal?" he asked, and he even laughed. The Joker straightened himself up and cleared his throat. "No, no, no one's asking anything like that of you. I just…I'm not mistaken, am I? You do want to do something…big? And you have a mind for it. No one can deny that, and no one should." He frowned at the kitchen, wondering what was taking her so long.

"I did have an idea for…well, see, it's a little…" Lonnie was nervous, but the Joker was patient. "Bullets, you place in a gun, or maybe even missiles or something at one point. They have DNA in them, a hair or some skin, and the bullets seek out that particular DNA pattern for about…I'd say, a few hundred feet? Maybe more?" he said, awkwardly. "It wouldn't make much of a difference if you were just shooting randomly, but I—."

"Duela!" the Joker growled, in a way Lonnie had never heard. She came in and set down the drinks before sitting herself down. "Duela, dear, don't you have…something, anything, to attend to? We're having a private conversation," he said, and immediately gauged her reaction. It was precisely what he expected, too. At first she looked heartbroken, but then she glared daggers at Lonnie, who didn't seem to notice. Or care. Upset she was not important at the moment Duela rose and left, going to wash some dishes as loudly as she could.

"You were saying?" the Joker asked, sipping some of the amber liquid.

Lonnie followed suit, sipping and wincing. "Well, what I was saying was that it wouldn't be useful unless you were looking for specific targets, but I am in the middle of developing heat-seeking bullets as well. They wouldn't lock on specific targets, but it would take the hassle away from trying to aim perfectly, when, you know, if you can just get it in the vicinity…" he mumbled.

For hours the two boys talked, and Duela cleaned. She was livid. After nearly four hours she left to drop him off, and when she returned, she came back in and began to clean the counters for the eighth time while the Joker sat on their kitchen table, studying something. "Little perfect little boy, honestly, thinking he can just waltz in and steal his…heart…" she glared at a little stain, which was probably a knot in the wood.

He sighed. "You look good in red, and you look good in blue, and sometimes purple when you're not all huffy like you are now. But…Duela, green does not suit you." She glared at him while he shook his head.

"Well, it's obvious you couldn't like him better. You've only just met him, he's expendable, minds like that pop up all the time."

"Nonsense. Daddy loves both of you the same," the Joker cooed, sarcastically, looking up. "But speaking of blue, maybe this will keep you from seeing red. Follow me." He rose and she followed obediently.

"In light of you doing very well, I've decided I want to make you as permanent as anything can be permanent." He led her into his bedroom, and went through a drawer. "This is your present, for doing so well with Lonnie. For finding him, and leading him right into our little trap," he mumbled, and finally, he pulled out a little blue dress. "You are now officially my little--!"

"Harlequin," she said with a wide smile, looking at the dress. It was…gorgeous. She eyed it up and down. The dress was made mostly with blue silk. The sleeves were poofed and gathered, causing them to look almost a bit like blue puffballs. On the dress itself were pieces of black lace, at random, save for the lace trim at the bottom. She grinned, and looked up to him, simply beaming. Which was definitely a nice turnaround from seething.

"Well, try it on…I'd like to see my full masterpiece," he mumbled, and watched as she undressed to slip it on. And to him, Duela was a masterpiece, a piece of scrapped canvas that Two Face had almost ruined, but he took her and made her delightfully horrible. He saw her standing there, in the dress. It fit loosely on her, which was exactly what he had desired in the first place.

"I love it," Duela said, looking down with nothing but joy in her. She moved to look at herself in the full-length mirror as the Joker left. As she stood there, she looked at the clown outfit and the scars on her face. She frowned a little, and went back to her jean pocket, taking out the coin. She stared at the coin, the dress, and her scars. Coin. Dress. Scars.

The joy disappeared and it was replaced with confusion. She'd almost forgotten who she was for a moment, staring at all three objects. She was Harlequin…right? Or was she Dent, Duela Dent? She touched her scars, her mouth open as she stared, curious. She blinked a bit and continued to star, her mind swimming. She still used the coin. But she killed with a knife. She did what the coin said. Or did she do what the Joker said? Or did she perhaps do both? Duela sat down, taking a little knife he kept by his bed and began to scratch at the burnt side of the coin, adding in herself to the infamous Dent family coin. Still, as she looked at herself in the dress, she was confused. Who was she really? Whose rules did she follow? There was only one way to settle this.

She rose, put her feet together, stood up straight, and flipped. "Heads, the Joker. My Joker. Tails…my dad. The coin. Two Face." She gulped as she reached for it, but she missed it. The coin fell and landed between her feet. All she could see where the ribbed edge of the coin, neither side gazing up at her. Her mouth opened in disbelief—either her question was answered, or the universe thought it didn't need to be answered. Who was she supposed to be?

She looked up to the mirror and heard the yell from the Joker. She sighed, and picked up the coin, changing back into her clothes afterwards. Was she both? Could she be both? After all, what was chaos if not fair? Chaos, it was like the flip of a coin?

"Coming!" she called, and she walked in, sitting down and staring at the coin. Two people. Duela Dent and Harlequin. Two legacies. Could she do it?

----

"Fantastic show everyone, fantastic!" the Joker praised, as he went down the row of clown lackies. In the warehouse was a van full of both money and weapons, which the Joker and his two protégés intended to use to their full advantage. "If you guys will just wait…like that, I'll get your pay…" he turned around, but turned back around again with his automatic weapon, shooting them down without blinking.

"Lonnie," was all he said, and the young man began to drag off the bodies. Duela stood as Harlequin, starting to unload the money. "He did well today, Duela dear. Even you must admit that," the Joker mumbled, watching her lug the bags.

"I don't have to admit anything. He's sloppy, he's…progressed, maybe, but he's still got so far to go."

"As do you," he reminded her wisely, and her throwing only got rougher.

"Not nearly as far," she growled, and she shook her head as the Joker went around to the other side of the van. As he did, though, he heard little Duela moans and he peeked over to see her at knifepoint, in front of Lonnie.

The Joker blinked, surprised, really. He raised his eyebrows and clapped as she struggled, though he knew he was waiting for her signal. "Congratulations, Lon. You managed to make a complete fool out of yourself…what is it that you want?" he asked, almost boredly.

Duela growled. Lonnie pressed the knife a little more deep into her. "Respect. Nothing I'm going to get working for you…I'll be under you forever, at this rate. I've learned enough." He frowned. "Here's what's going to happen. Duela is going to load up what she has unloaded back into the van, and you two are going to let me go."

"Ooh, this is bullshit! Babe, let me at him, please--!"

"I don't know, Duela, he's got you at knifepoint," he said sarcastically, and he sighed a little. "Alright. Just let her go, and she will load up and let you leave. Just know…you will be nothing. Absolutely nothing. And do you know why, Lonnie? Because you know…nothing. Because you are nothing. You don't know what chaos is because you have refused to embrace it, despite how beautiful and everlasting it is. You had potential. But this move…has definitely opened my eyes."

Lonnie stared as he spoke. "My name's not Lonnie. It's Anarky, because that's what I am. I'm not chaos, I'm anarchy. I'm Anarky."

"Chaos and anarchy are synonyms," Duela said absently, and shrugged when he pointed a gun at her.

"Did it make you feel good, putting a knife to her?" Joker asked, walking a little closer, still obviously in control of the situation. "I mean, you used her. You had…relationships, we'll say, many times while you tried to put her down even more. And then you threaten her life. Even for me, that's a little…" What Lonnie failed to realize, is that Duela was still nothing to him.

Duela knew it, and him saying all of this stabbed her in the neck anyway. As she loaded up the last bag, she looked at the Joker, and he shook his head pointedly. She seethed as she felt Lonnie's last kiss, and watched him hop into the van. As he started up, however, Joker casually moved his hand up to the back and unlatched it.

As Lonnie sped off, all of the money and supplies went with him. Duela vaguely remembered the bodies, and how his fingerprints were all over them. "But why did you let him go? Would you really rather the cops get him?" she asked, looking up a little sadly. He did use her…he pleased her and tried to take her spot, for a very long time. And she fell for it. Lesson learned.

"I think watching him getting eaten alive by the city is a lot more fun that watching him rot in a jail cell, yes," the Joker said, and he grabbed her arm, starting to walk off. They had a long walk home, and it was hot.


	4. Chapter 4

((once more, i own none of this c: ))

Duela smiled to herself as she walked into their little shack. Maybe she shouldn't have gone off looking for Lonnie—Anarky—but she wanted to know what he was up to. If he wanted a second chance, maybe. She walked in and looked around at the dark house, setting her purse down and kicking off her heels. He was probably asleep, she decided.

She made her way into the kitchen, but she was blindsided. All at once she felt the Joker on top of her, his knife at her neck menacingly. "Welcome home, honey. Have fun?" he asked, sarcastically, and he cut open one of the white scars. She winced and squirmed, but otherwise didn't fight it. Instead she just glared daggers up at his wide smile. "Did you ever think maybe, perhaps, it was a possibility that I would want to know where you were going? It's not that I don't trust you, I don't trust the things that go bump in the night," he teased, flicking another scar open.

"I didn't think it was necessary," she said through a wince, tearing up a little. "I was just going out to find…err…I just wanted to talk to Edward, is all. That's all," she mumbled, looking up at him.

"The Riddler is what he prefers, and I spoke to him. He said he hadn't seen you. You're lying to me, Duela, and I would suggest not taking me for a fool." All of the fun in his voice was gone, now, and instead he had nothing but darkness and insanity. "If you go see Lonnie again," he said, standing her up. "I won't be so lenient."

"I didn't go to see him--!" Like lightning he grabbed her hair and slammed her face into the wall, hearing the delightful crunch that was her nose snapping. Where did she get this little attitude from? Surely not from him…

"Again, I don't appreciate liars," he said, now a bit bored. He pulled her face from the wall and shoved her in the direction of the bathroom, to wash herself up. "I have eyes and ears all over my city!" he yelled, and continued to ramble in the kitchen, to himself.

Duela went into the bathroom, looking at her bleeding nose and she winced, trying to get the blood to stop. "You can't do this anymore," she mumbled to herself, her eyes going wide as she stared at her reflection. "Lonnie had a point…no respect, at all…I'm ready," she mumbled, and she looked at the mirror.

"No, I'm not," she answered herself, giving up and shoving a tissue into her nose to catch the bleeding. She sat on the toilet, her head hanging. "How could I possibly be ready? I can't even keep a hold on a citizen, he felt he had to run off and do his own thing. Because he's a moron," she continued, talking to herself quickly and quietly. She blinked a little, wiping away some tears.

"But he's so awful to you…me," Duela said, shaking her head and wiping off the blood that was slowly coming from her cheeks. She bit her lip as she poured alcohol onto the tissue and wiped down her own face this time. "He's horrible. I can't stand it any longer. I have to do something. Do what? Don't I get a chance to learn something? And I'll have to take that chance…but he's so awful…"

Duela continued this battle within herself for a while, cleaning her face thoroughly. The Joker listened curiously from the other side of the door, licking his lips as he thought about her and what she was doing. Saying. She wasn't talking to anyone else…only herself. Only Duela. He frowned and went to his room, having heard enough. She would make the decision to stay or leave, knowing what was there for her for each decision.

Duela sat back on the toilet, carefully removing the tissue from her nose. "He's horrible to me. But he's wonderful at the same time. I'm in love. No…no. I'm infatuated, with what he has to offer. Not with who he is. He's a former person…there is no soul to connect with. There is only what he has to offer me," she grumbled, and she looked down to her lap.

----

A few days passed, and because Duela had managed to do well with a bank heist, she sat in a tree. She'd earned more of his trust, which she was sure she rightly deserved. Pamela sat next to her on one side and Talia on the other. "What happened?" Talia asked, and although Pamela was busy brushing some dew off of a flower, she was actively listening.

"I went to go visit Lonnie. He found out." Pamela let out a little 'pfft', leaving Duela to frown. "What? So he broke my nose…"

She made a face, and Talia cleared her throat. "We just…don't understand why," she admitted, looking over to the bruised face that was Duela.

"Why what? Why I'm with him? What do you care? You're with your dad, and he beats the crap out of you. On a more regular basis. Of course, that could be because you fuck up on a more regular basis," Duela spat, defensively.

Talia glared, but let it go. Just this once. "I never had a choice. He raised me in this world. You were raised in…the slums, for lack of a better word. Tough life, but nothing compared to what Two Face gave you. And now this."

"It's stupid," Pamela said with a soft frown and a little pout. "To stay with him…to be here. Like us. You should be better than us…we had no choice," she said softly, and went to go tend to some bended leaves, pointing them to the sun.

She looked down, frowning. Why did she choose to live this life, when so many others just…have to? "I've never really been my own person. I've always…belonged, to someone else. I was raised in my mother's image. A whore, looking for the next high. Then my dad and Two Face came in. They turned me into something better, someone who meant something. I was finally Duela Dent. And then when he died, I had no one to belong to."

"You're your own person," Talia reassured her, awkwardly.

"No, see…I'm not. I've been so many different people, so many different things, I kind of…don't remember who I really am. I have so many personas…Duela, Dent, and Harlequin. They're all kinda important, but they're all…" she sighed a little, looking utterly confused. She looked around, losing grip on who she was even supposed to be right now.

"So what's stopping you from finding yourself now?" Pamela asked, looking into her curiously. "Or do you think you're doomed to be a chameleon your entire life?" she asked.

"I'm not…anyone. I'm people. Just look at me," she said, pointing to the red, irritated cuts on her face. "Half of my face is gone, but…it was his knife that did it. I'm both. But, at the same time, I'm neither," Duela said, staring forward with her eyes glassed over. "Do you get it?"

"No," the other two said in unison, and Talia grinned. "That doesn't make any sense. You're you. You're Duela, you're the Harlequin of Gotham City." She paused, looking forward. "And you always will be, now. But you don't mind, do you?"

"Well, I wasn't going to medical school," she mumbled with a little smile, as it hurt her cheek to smile too much. "Sometimes I forget who I am."

"Even in the Freak world, that's never a good sign," Pamela mumbled, and she hopped down from the bark flawlessly, going off and leaving. Duela watched her go with distant eyes, as this conversation had confused her to no end. She looked over to Talia and she shrugged before jumping down herself. Duela followed suit, but headed off to her car, her eyes down.

----

A few weeks passed after her conversation with the other women, and her confusion wasn't getting any better. She found herself in her room, lost in one of the zones she got into when confusion struck. "He's not very nice, I know, but he does it for a reason…it's like hitting a dog…I'm not a dog, I know, I'm not a dog, but…" Duela said to herself, her eyes wide and alive.

"This hurts, what he does, what he's been doing. I'm no one, but I don't have to be him…but he's what I have, he's what…he's what I am…" she continued, sitting in her dress. Over her eyes, she'd painted big black diamonds with small red dots on her cheek. "I'm his little Queen of Diamonds. I'm someone." And then she sighed.

"I'm Duela Dent. I'm…fuck, I'm…" she mumbled. She had no end to this internal battle. The Joker sat outside her door, listening in and deducing to himself, his eyes going wide as he did. "Harlequin. That's what they call me. That's what they call me now. They used to call me Duela…Two Face called me Duela. Harvey…dad, called me Duela," she said, her voice getting softer and smoother, like velvet. "But…they also call me Harlequin…" she seemed to go back and forth, every day, and she never came to a conclusion. Her heart raced as she rose up, and the Joker stood, looking as if he was about to knock on the door when she opened it.

"You're talking to someone…" he accused her, quietly, his eyes narrowing. Always watching, always analyzing.

"No. No one," she said confidently, though she still looked dazed. "How're you doing, babe?" she asked, her hand going up to touch his skin. The contact brought her from the fuzz. Her index finger trailed along his scar and she smiled to herself, finally meeting his lips. They were soft, so…vulnerable. Of all things. She shuddered and met his eyes, smearing his makeup and smirking a little.

He gaped at her as she touched him. How dare she, how dare she touch such an intimate part of his body. Who did she think she was? But then, at the same time, he didn't stop. He gazed, taken aback. Finally she pulled her finger from him, took a deep breath, and moved away from him, rubbing her index finger and her thumb together until the red lipstick turned to pink. He watched her walk off, stunned for just a moment.

"Are you ready for something new?" he asked her, following her as she stood in the kitchen, looking around as if she was lost again. "Because I've hatched another plan, another—"

"Duela," she said to herself. "No, no…the coin…the coin is right here, don't panic…" she continued, and she held the coin in her hand tightly, smiling over to him. "What were you saying, babe? Another plan?"

At once he knew what he had to do. "Give me the coin," he said, switching from curious to dangerous in a blink of an eye. Duela did a similar change, going from lost to found, and she moved from him quickly. "The coin's in the past. Should've melted it like the piece of scrap metal it is when you first joined me…"

"It's not scrap metal!" she screamed, at the top of her lungs. She screamed so loud, her voice cracked into nothingness for a moment. She protected the coin like it was her livelihood. "It's mine! And it's staying mine! You can't have it!" she continued, and bowed her back up to him quite literally, glaring at him.

The Joker, while not surprised by this reaction, was still…put off. He went dangerously for a knife, smirking. "You wanna know why you're protecting that coin? Not because it was his, no, but because you want it to mean something to you the way it meant something to him. And with good reason—he kept the coin because of his father using it to do horrible, horrible things, correct? It gave him strength, and in the same breath, it brought him down. I…don't have time for that. Harlequin."

"I can be both!" she continued to just bark, desperately. "I can be Dent and Harlequin. I'll be the superpower Gotham has never seen, never…I can be that for both of you. Both of you are so important to me and what I am, I have room for both of you."

"Remember the last person who made room for another person in his head?" Joker spat, advancing. Destroy the coin, destroy Duela.

"One was weak and one was strong. Both of me is strong…" she reasoned, her knuckles going white with her grip. "Both of me can have it all. How selfish are you that you can't share me with chance?" she asked.

"Pretty selfish," he said. "If you don't hand it over, Harlequin…"

"I'll die!" she yelled, more than desperately. "I'll die if I lose the coin. The coin is as much a part of me as the dress," she said with a small smile, loosening herself up a little as her twisted logic washed over the Joker. "I'd die if you took away the dress. I'd die if you took away the coin. And we both know you're too impatient to create another masterpiece from scratch. Not when you have a perfect one in front of you. I'm everything you are, babe. And everything he was," Duela cooed, trying to calm her down.

He watched her. After a moment he threw the knife in her direction, but nowhere near her, and left.

----

He'd left the house for nearly three days. Duela had done small things, in his absence. He returned with the biggest grin on his face—why, she wasn't sure, but fine. "Remember when I said you looked bad in green?" he asked right off the bat. She'd sat in the living room, flipping through local channels when she walked in.

"Vaguely," she mumbled, and decided not to mention their big argument to him. He'd obviously blocked it out. If only she could be so lucky.

"I lied," he continued, and tossed her an…elf outfit. She inspected it with a flat expression. "You like parades? I love parades…all those people, all those people, all those moments to grab—" he took her face in his hands, meeting her eyes. "—all those things that can be done. And it's a Christmas parade, too, which makes it all the more…" he fluffed her hair a little. "Fun!"

"So we're going to be in a parade?" she asked with a small blink. "What is worth dressing up as an elf?" As in, what was the point of all of this?

"His name is Bruce Wayne, and he is very happy to be a part of this parade—and very happy to be held for ransom. I assume," he said with a small smile, finally letting go of her face. "Who wouldn't? We're a lively bunch of coconuts!" he continued, simply full of glee.

"Coconuts," Duela said with a faint smile. Until she looked down at the elf costume, and the smile wavered, but…this would work. It should work, anyway.

----

A few hours later, Duela found herself cooking in the kitchen with the Joker watching curiously, chatting away about his plans. "He's worth quite a bit," Duela said with a small smile. "But he's very…guarded. And he spent all that time in Vietnam, or something, training to be a…ninja. Or so I hear. There's also rumors he went off to join the circus, and become a trapeze artist, but…" Duela sighed, and shrugged. "I can't do tae kwon do."

"Tae kwon do is Korean," he corrected her automatically, wrinkling his nose. "Nope, nope, this is going according to plan. Because, you see…we know him better than you think. We've run into him a couple times…he always got away, but this time we'll get him, no, this time we'll have some fun…"

Duela was afraid to ask. "Babe, he's not…" she mumbled, her eyes going wide as she gazed at him. "How did you find out?"

"Remember Coleman Reese? I caught up with him, I wanted to…apologize, for what I did to him. It was really rude," he said with a little snicker. "Anyway, before I sent him to the big corporation to the sky, I asked him. And you'd be surprised at how persuasive I can be," Joker said with a small smirk, looking over to her curiously.

"You'd be surprised at my lack of surprise," she said with a small smile, and positioned her body invitingly. He'd noticed her doing this a lot lately. It was annoying…her infatuation. Of course, he was a man, he saw her body and enjoyed her, but…he didn't want to enjoy her. She was not enjoyable. Duela looked down, feeling the rejection for the millionth time.

"Babe," she said, mostly to the quesadillas, or so it would seem by her hanging head. "Why aren't you attracted to me?" She was not attracted to him, but it bugged her that he was not attracted to her. It made no sense to her. She was young, and attractive, but…he didn't want her.

"Because you're a monster," he said simply.

"But so are you," she retorted, finally looking at him. "We're the same breed. Monsters go with monsters," Duela said.

"We are the same species," he corrected, looking at her very seriously. "I'm a wolf. You're a…poodle. A standard poodle, but a poodle all the same. Wolves and poodles do not go well together," he said. This was also a control thing for him…if he could keep her under his thumb with this, too, then good for him. She was not getting him.

"That's not true. Maybe a poodle wants a wolf…no harm in that. It works. It's not socially acceptable, but since when are a wolf and a poodle really all that socially acceptable in a sea full of golden retrievers?" she asked, daring to smirk down at him.

"Poodles and wolves do not mix!" The Joker yelled, and rose up, knocking the boiling pot of water onto the floor. Some of the water splashed onto her bare feet and legs, burning her. She winced but grabbed the mop anyway, her bottom lip shivering.


	5. Chapter 5

((i own none of it D: ))

Rehearsals were a real drag on her. Being around so many people left her feeling confused, and drained, but thankfully there were enough people to warrant no one paying any attention to her or her Joker. Of course, they were much less ostentatious than they usually were—indeed, they kept to themselves, doing what the "director" of their float said to do and nothing more or less.

A few weeks after he'd presented her with a their new plan Duela found herself sitting at the kitchen table, having just come home from rehearsal. She flipped through the paper, finding more articles and speculation about her father. The months kept passing, and the theories strayed even farther from the truth. With concentrated gracefulness, Duela grabbed a pencil and began to color in the left half of Harvey Dent's face, a little obsessively at this point. Her tongue hung out in concentration as she did.

The Joker, who sat across from her, raised his eyebrows as he watched. He waited for her to explain, but based on the insane grin on her face from when she was done, he sort of got it. "That's who he really is," he said, softly. His understanding washed over her and made her feel whole again. He knew his understanding meant something profound to her, but he didn't get how profound. And neither did she, really.

"Yeah," she breathed, out of breath for some reason. "They don't know him. Not like I did. And believe me, I…I knew him," she said, her usually wide eyes going even wider. She blinked and sipped her coffee, tenderly, staring down at the simple coloring she did. It was simple, but it made all the difference to her.

"Babe?" Duela asked. She gave him the same look she'd been giving him for a while. The look the he was the be all and end all, and yet, she wanted nothing more than to just rip out his throat for all he'd turn her into.

He kind of liked that look. "Yes, Duela, dear?" he asked attentively.

"Do you love me?"

Even though he was the Joker, he had to pull back a little and think about how to approach this. Thoughts of love entered his mind and his eyes widened with anger and insanity. He vaguely remembered love, and…what it could do to people. "You should get some sleep," he said darkly. He didn't love her, but he didn't want to send her into that spiral of self-loathing by rejecting her again. Not yet, anyway.

Too late. Angrily she rose and slammed her cup on the table, the mug breaking and coffee spilling everywhere. She narrowed her eyes and as she walked out of the room, she made as much noise as possible doing anything she could. She stayed in her room but didn't sleep. Instead she paced, her eyes wild with hatred. She did hate him, right now.

"I could've been someone," she reminded herself. "Someone could have loved me. Loved me as much as I loved him. I could've been…anyone," she hissed, staring at herself in that full-length mirror. "But he took me, out of normalcy, and made me this monster."

It wasn't unusual for Duela, in her blind rage, to twist the facts like this in her favor. For an hour she obsessed over what she could have done, how he took her and her life and made her life into his, but refused to give any of his life back. God she hated him. After a while she took her knife, and slowly slipped from her room, not making any sort of noise.

She inched down to the hall and into his room, seeing him lying on his back. His breathing was steady. She walked closer, the petite knife clenched in her hand. The knife fit it perfectly. She wet her lips as she walked up to his body, every movement as fluid as liquid. She took the knife and put it to his throat, her breath getting caught for a moment as she hesitated.

_Is this really what you want?_ She asked herself. _After all he's given you…you earned it, you made your own way under him, you deserve everything he does for you…_ Harlequin said to Duela, and Duela seemed to be listening. _He's better to you than your father ever was. The Joker praises you, gives you responsibility, and has more of you than your father ever wanted. Just him knowing you makes him worth it, Duela._ The voice continued to coo.

"So do it already," came his quite voice, as if he wasn't asleep at all. Duela snapped from her trance, her lips shivering. "Do it, Duela. Think of all the people you'd be saving, all the chaos you'd be containing…all these lives you would better…"

She cried to herself. Her throat hurt from the lump and tears streamed down her cheeks. "I can't," she choked out, pulling her knife away from his neck and standing up to leave him. "I can't," she responded again, her voice high and cracking.

He turned over where he lay, disappointed. "You're still so weak, so fragile, Duela…" he hissed, and heard her leave. He fell asleep to her screaming and crying from the other room.

----

"Showtime," the Joker hissed, smirking to Duela. He was also an elf. He was the most ridiculous, dangerous, and beautiful thing she'd honestly ever seen as he stood there. He put freckles and rosy cheeks on with makeup, doing the same to Duela. "You know the plan?" he asked, waiting in the wings before the parade even began.

"I know the plan," she said on cue. It really wouldn't be all that difficult, her part…Bruce Wayne, while he was strong, had a weakness. He loved and cared far too much for his own good. It would be like taking candy from a baby. Still, as she prepared herself physically for her acting debut, she couldn't help but remember the last time she saw Batman. Still as vulnerable as he would be today, under the fear gas.

Bruce Wayne walked by, and…noticed a crying elf. He frowned, looked at his watch, and figured he had time for this one girl. She smeared her makeup by hiding her face and crying in it. He bent down to her level, his eyes soft and sensitive. "What's wrong, doll?" he asked, and he flashed his little smirk that he did, lifting her chin with one finger.

"I just…found out my dad, died, in a car accident…" she mumbled, her voice and body shaky from the apparent shock. She still hid her face, knowing he would notice the scars, in spite of her makeup. Thankfully, her usual Harlequin attire made seeing her scars very difficult to see, so he wouldn't know about that.

Indeed, his heart melted as he watched her, frowning a little bit. "I'm so sorry," he said. "You should go…your mother, she'd probably want you there…"

"I can't," she said automatically. "My mom and I aren't doing so well, financially, and if I leave, I won't get paid," Duela said with a small sigh. "You don't happen to know where I could find some tissues…?" she asked, and when he saw her face, she fumed that even Batman was immune to the terror her scars brought. "A run-in with the Joker…he's, he's terrible," she hissed, and shivered.

This only added to the sympathy he already held for her. "I'm so sorry," he said, awkwardly. "Let's go find a utility closet, they probably have some kind of tissues in there," he said, and he helped her up, wrapping a protective arm around her lithe form. This was going so according to plan, she was almost scared something would go wrong. Duela loved that fear. It made her stronger, just like he said it would.

They did finally find a utility closet, and the hunt was on for tissues—for now. "I just wanted to thank you, Mr. Wayne, for being so kind to me," she purred, stopping her search for now to look him in the eye. She blinked and smiled as he faced her, and she stepped just a little closer. "I mean, I know your…reputation," she mumbled, and put a hand on his hand.

He tensed considerably, looking down at her and clearing his throat. "I, well…it's no big dear, babe," he said with a small chuckle. He stared at her eyes and he brushed back some of her blonde hair.

This was going more according to plan than she could have ever predicted. Duela inched closer to Bruce, her eyes going wide as she leaned forward on her tip toes. Their lips collided, and after a moment, Duela deepened the kiss.

This next move had to be swift. She moved the hand that didn't touch his hand into her sleeve, and she pulled out a hypodermic needle. Like lightning she stuck his arm and pushed the plunger in, sending the anesthetic coursing through his veins. He pulled back and glared at her, alarmed, but after a second he fell onto the floor, sleeping peacefully.

Duela pulled out her phone, and the Joker picked up. "He's down," she said gently, glancing down at the smeared lipstick from her lips on his face.

----

"Is it recording?"

"Shut up, Duela…"

"I just asked if you were recording…"

"Hello, Commissioner Gordon," hissed the Joker into the camera, in his full garb. Behind him, Bruce Wayne was tied to a steel chair, still unconscious. Harlequin stood next to him, giggling under her breath. "I just wanted to let you know that me and my lovely little Harlequin managed to save Bruce Wayne—ooh, I'm sorry, sometimes we call him Batman."

Bruce was coming to as the Joker continued. "As you know we're two very busy clowns, and busy clowns require…endorsement," he mumbled, nodding a little. "I know the city of Gotham is willing to give up said endorsement for its clowns. Because what would you do without us? I mean, we're the reason people like Dr. Crane and Harvey Dent don't go bump in the night anymore. You owe us," he said, and he moved the camera into Bruce's face.

"If we don't get the endorsement we want in…say, a week…"

"A week? But that's like a year!" Duela complained behind him.

Joker sighed. "No, that's like, a week," he said. "A week is all you will have, and then we'll just go ahead and take out the trash…and as I'm sure you can remember, I'm a man of my word," he said, and out of the sheer giddiness he felt, he let out a cackle that strongly overpowered the demented giggle coming from Duela. He shut off the camera and set it aside to mail.

"Joker," Bruce breathed, looking up to his back. The man didn't respond, leaving Bruce to sit there, sighing a little as he did. He shifted, as best as he could, under the restraints. "Gordon wouldn't pay for me."

"Maybe not you, but he might pay for…the Batman," Duela said with a small smirk, popping out from behind him in her pretty blue dress. "Isn't that right, babe?"

"Don't talk to him," the Joker said darkly, and he stuffed the tape into an envelope. He wrote down a fake return address on the envelope. The Joker sealed it, and wrote on the front:

**GORDON'S EYE'S ONLY**

Before smirking to himself. "Good, good…excellent…come on, Duela, shouldn't you go to the store? Christmas is coming up, and I've been a good boy," he cooed, and nodded towards the door. "Besides, I'm sure Mr. Wayne would love a home cooked Christmas dinner, won't you?" he asked, and ruffled poor Bruce's hair. He still looked dazed, and if Joker had anything to do with it, he would stay that way.

Duela looked down and nodded. "I just feel like I'm not a part of this at all…"

"We would both really appreciate a cook meal, believe me. It would help the plan," he said absently, and shooed her away with his eyes. He was getting more tired of her ever day.

----

Three days passed. Duela found herself on the couch with Bruce Wayne still in his chair, a little less dazed than before but dazed all the same. "They're investigating you," she mumbled idly, turning up the news so he could hear all about his disappearance. She stared at the TV, not listening to Bruce hardly at all.

He watched her, though. She was his ticket out of here…she was obviously very susceptible to any sort of persuasion, and hopefully he could play the right card. So to speak. Bruce wet his lips before he finally spoke. "So you and the Joker?" he asked, and she turned to him, shrugging. "Your dad…wouldn't have approved."

"You didn't know him," she said calmly. He was reminded of the chill that sat over a town before a category five hurricane blew in.

"I did know him," he corrected her. "Maybe not in the same way as you did, but I knew him very well," he continued. His voice was as smooth as velvet, something Duela wasn't used to hearing. "He wouldn't have liked you working with the Joker. Or with any of Gotham's insane," he mumbled. "He would've wanted much better for you, y'know. And so do I."

"You…don't know that. You don't know me. And you didn't know him," she said, looking to him full-on then, frowning a bit. "What makes you think you're the authority on all of this?" Duela asked, turning off the TV.

Good. He got her attention. He gazed at her. "Because I know your type. You wanna be great…this was not the right direction to go. What do you think will end up happening to the Joker? Do you think he's going to live forever, like you two seem to think? He's a man, like you and me…he'll die. And trust me when I say that it won't be a good death." He paused. "Neither will yours."

"By your logic, neither will yours," Duela countered, frowning and hating that she had to be talking to him like this. He seemed to know more about this situation than anyone else.

Bruce chuckled. "Probably not. But I'll see a much better end than he'll get…because I'll have lived for something."

"He is living for something. He lives for chaos."

"But can any one person really decide on what chaos will do? Isn't that…sort of hypocritical, trying to do chaos? Chaos happens, one doesn't deliver it," Bruce explained, even in his medicated state.

"Why not? Does chaos have to have rules?" she asked. "He's not breaking any rules, because there is no rules." She stood up, as if trying to get some sort of dominance over him. "He's doing what he wants. And so am I."

"Is this what you really want?" Bruce asked, and it stung like the needle that she stung him with. "If you get yourself better…clearer…I could easily send you to college. And you can be your own person," he said, hitting her right where it hurt her. "You have to rely on the Joker anymore, yeah?" he said, kindly.

Duela shook her head. "This is me now. It's not a bad thing…" her eyes got all starry. "I'm the leader of the next generation, y'see. I'm Harlequin, I'm carrying on his legacy. And Two Face's. I'm not…gonna leave that right now."

"It won't end well," Bruce reminded her. "This could all end right now. I see the way he treats you…you're not his legacy, you're his slave." Duela tensed considerably at that.

"I am not!" she yelled. She yelled because it was true, of course. "I've heard just about enough out of you…" Duela said, and roughly grabbed a few washcloths, stuffing them into his mouth angrily and putting duct tape over his lips. She glared down at her and shook her head, slapping him once to make her point.

"You get one thing straight. He loves me." But even as she said it, it seemed so…untrue.

When the Joker got home that night she hid in her room with her phone, not sure whether or not to call in an anonymous tip about them. Was he bluffing when he said he could take all of this away? _Don't you love him, Duela?_ She asked herself, and she nodded. _Leaving him wouldn't just hurt you. It would hurt him, too…he couldn't do this without you, without your intelligence and your beauty…_the voice continued to mumble into her ear.

"Shut up," she said aloud, shifting a little where she sat, on her bed. "Could I really do this to him? Or…could I really do this to myself?" she asked herself again, looking down at the phone. Her eyes glassed over as she thought about her situation, and she seemed to go into another confused trance.


	6. Chapter 6

She made the only decision she thought was most beneficial to her. But then, as she lay down on the floor, Bruce Wayne screaming in the background, she thought she could have been much more careful. The caller ID had a call history, and the Joker would definitely recognize the number to Gotham PD. His knife glinted in the dim overhead light as he put it to her throat, shaking.

"You…" was all he could say for a moment. "You…my dear…should have thought this through." The Joker she was used to seeing was gone, now. "You should have thought the end through just a little…more. But I guess you couldn't, with that curious little voice whispering in your ear? Duela Dent and Harvey Dent, brought down by Harlequin and Two Face. Oh, the poetic fucking justice is just unbearable!" he said through his loud cackles, which were doing a great job of covering Bruce Wayne's pleas not to hurt her.

"Now you're just being dramatic," Duela hissed, knowing he could hear her. She was unusually calm…maybe Harlequin had snuck through. Probably. And then a thought crossed her mind, in the midst of all this insanity. She glared up at him, her eyes much more narrow than they normally were. "_So do it already_," she said, word for word, what he had said to her.

The Joker didn't cry, though, not like Duela did. Instead he grabbed her body, pulling her up and throwing her into the wall. As he yanked her hair and punched her in her ribs, he saw blood coming down her pretty skin, and he hated that he thought she was pretty. She'd never been more beautiful. Fuck.

"You can't!" Duela screeched, like a harpy, with a delightful giggle that rang through Bruce Wayne's ears. She tugged away from him, some blonde hair still stuck in his gloved hand. "You can't. I can't. We can't escape each other, even with our own hands!" she continued, simply dancing with delight. This was the opposite of what she'd guessed would happen. And even though his fist flew into her gut, knocking any air she had in her out, she was ecstatic.

Because hell, she knew how to work with this sort of situation.

"Now that we've gotten to this point—hey!" she yelled, when he swiped at her. "Now that we've realized what little control we have over ourselves when all we wanna do is kill each other, now that we know where we stand…" she took a moment to catch her breath, wanting to paint a pretty picture for her Joker.

"Imagine, if you will, the triumph our return from Arkham will be," Duela mumbled, stumbling a little from the force he used when he knocked her head into the wall. "Imagine how Gotham will feel knowing they're safe, we're gone, the Clown Prince and his little Princess are gone. And then…" she grinned, and heart the SWAT team pull up outside. She had approximately sixty seconds to make this a good trip to Arkham.

"And then what?" he finally spoke, breathing harder than he should be. "And then what do we do, what do we do, what do we do?" he continued.

"Something bigger than you or me, bigger than this city. Send them running like cockroaches." Duela heard their footprints. "And smush them all. And then we go global." She grinned, sure she'd gotten him. She turned this around, she made her moral lapse work for her.

"Global," Joker repeated, glaring dangerously at Duela. He was either stunned by her idea or incredulous that she was pulling this crap. Duela never really knew, because after he said that one word, the SWAT team came in and took control.

----

Twenty-four hours later, Duela found herself in a weird situation. They fascinated everyone…the Joker's sociopath tendencies left everyone else in the dust. Duela's dependency was one for the history books. So they decided to observe them in as natural of a habitat as they could make.

They were put in two rooms, separated only by bars in case the other got violent. In front of them was a huge shatter-proof window for the doctors to peer in, not that they needed it. Above them were four cameras, two in each room, and they picked up everything. The Joker knew how to act…Duela, however, was acting like she was dying. He sat at the opposite end of her, staring forward at her with his eyes cut up.

Duela looked like an entirely different story. While he sat calm and composed she pressed her face against the bars, desperate to be with him. She looked dead; the medicine was partially to blame for that, of course. But the way she laid, nothing but her eyes which were wired on the Joker moving. She almost looked broken, like a doll.

"It's impossible for me to get sleep with you staring at me like you want to eat me," he said gently.

"You never sleep," she responded, wetting her dry lips with a dry tongue.

"Did they let you keep your coin?"

"Yes," she responded, and took it out on cue, examining it with a smile. "As long as I promised not to choke on it…like I would, what a horrible place for this coin to go…"

"It's scrap metal," he jabbed.

"Is not," she responded weakly, but he knew had she not been drugged up, she would have been stronger. "So…" she mumbled, wetting her lips again. "Have you seen a shrink yet?"

"Not yet," he mumbled. Maybe it was the medicine that was sending him into apathy…probably. "Today's my first."

"I saw mine a few hours ago. He's…horrible," Duela mumbled. She gulped, her throat horribly dry. "I miss you," she said, honestly. The Joker glared as a response. This place was breaking her down already…

They sat there in silence for a while. Duela's mind began to race as she thought of getting out. That's all she thought about anymore. "When we get out…if we get out…you'll have to make me a new dress. Maybe this time, you could make me a shirt and a skirt. But then, the dress was rather convenient…" she mumbled, and she let out a small sigh, shaking her head. "I haven't decided."

"And what makes you think I will take you back?" he asked. Somewhere, he knew, doctors were scribbling on paper like there was no tomorrow. "You did something unforgivable. Our biggest client, Duela, dear," he said, seeing her destroyed face and loving it.

"Because I'm your masterpiece," she responded, easily. Still, the panic was clear on her face. "Because you love what you've done with me…because I'm your legacy. I'm everything you are and everything you want to continue," she responded. "You love me because I am you," she continued, her eyes finally widening, making her look vulnerable. Only look.

The Joker took a moment to think about this. She was right. Why wouldn't he keep her around and make her flawless, like him? And then he chuckled. He couldn't. Her talk of plans all the time…of fairness…He looked up to her. "You're almost me. You're like a building…most of the building is amazing. Impeccable. But not even an impeccably designed building can stand on an imperfect base." He eyed her.

"If you're talking about Two Face, I can be both…"

The Joker moved swiftly to the bars, and she backed up out of defense. "You're not perfect. You never will be perfect, because you will never allow yourself to shed that bit of Harvey in you. Which is nothing but stupidity," he spat. "You could've been great. But you'll never be what I am. You'll be the best of your generation, but you'll never be me," he continued, and he slowly began to back up.

For once, Duela didn't argue. She stared down at her coin, shivering a little and touching her face. Maybe he was right. Maybe she couldn't be as good as him…she cared too much about her name. Her first name was Duela Dent…her second name was Harlequin. It was good enough for her, just…not for him.

"Will I see you on the playing field?" Duela asked, tears gathering in her eyes but she wasn't crying.

"Not if I see you first."

----

The Joker sat in a room void of anything but a table, two chairs, and five panic buttons. Five. He was flattered. He stared down at the table. In walked a cute little woman. Her hair was blonde and curly. But it was her eyes that got him…those bright blue eyes that shone down at him as if it would all be okay. And maybe she thought it would all be okay.

"Good afternoon," he said politely, quietly. Taking her in.

"Good afternoon," she responded with a bright smile and a Cockney accent to match. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel, but you can call me Harleen," she said, grinning. Always grinning. She looked so pretty when she smiled, the Joker noticed.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Harleen. You know what I think I may call you?" he said, maybe a little dangerously.

She tensed. "And…what's that?"

"I think I'm gonna call you Harley." He grinned. She nodded, and he reveled in the moment.

This would be almost too easy.

----

The following day Duela returned from individual therapy, and she plopped down in her room, looking down at her coin. "When I get out of here…I'll do great. I've been trained by the best, to be the best, how could I fail…"

The Joker looked up, and recognized that lost, glazed-over look. She was having a moment with her selves. He listened to her curiously, ruffling his hair.

"And when I do well…ooh so well, then they'll be proud."

"We've always been proud."


End file.
